


He Was Late

by JayeB



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I wrote this for Thanksgiving just because, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:56:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayeB/pseuds/JayeB
Summary: Senior business project at UCLA. Harry is infatuated and Manal is oblivious.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a complete fluffy angst piece based on my LSAT study playlist. Born out of avoiding studying and a conversation about the lack of Harry with women of color fics.  
> For Rissa

**\--September 23 rd**

He was late. Harry had insisted on working on their project at this Malibu café and he was late. The September sun was blazing overhead but the wind still held a chill that got into the bones so Manal pulled her hands into the sleeves of her black pullover while glaring at the screen of her laptop. They had two months to develop a mock business proposal and he was late.

Flipping through the pages of her “Ethics and Business” book she barely noticed the small pop and click of a camera shutter. Glancing up to see if he or his car could be spotted from her spot on the back patio of the café she was met with the lens of a camera.

Harry took one last shot of her before her face flexed into the scowl he knew she reserved only for him when he was late. She was wearing glasses but he could still see the way her left eyebrow raised in challenging confusion. Strolling over to the table he quickly slung his backpack off to deposit the camera and pull out his MacBook.

“Why are you taking pictures of me?” He could tell her it’s because he thinks she’s gorgeous and the sun at this angle made her bronze colored skin literally glow. He could tell her that he was slightly obsessed with the way her curls were currently sticking up and blowing in the cool breeze. He instead plopped down and shrugged.

“It was a good shot.” He could see her tongue roll over her teeth under her lips. She did that when she was annoyed with him. Taking a deep breath, she readjusted her stack of books and changed the volume of the music she was listening to.

“We need to at least come up with a solid business concept today. Do you have any interests? A non-profit idea?” She was good at being civil with him. Fidgeting with the menu on the table in front of him he shrugged slightly.

“I’m not sure. It has to be something that is plausible, right? Part of our grade is the class rating us on how well the business will do.” She hummed an agreement. Tilting her head to the side she stared off in the distance in thought. Harry took her moment of distraction to listen to the song playing from her laptop. She always wore expensive looking headphones to class and whenever he saw her in the business library. The song was full of cellos and piano breaks. The vocalist had a soft voice and the lyrics didn’t make sense to Harry.

“What’s your minor? Or are you a double major?” She was looking at him again.

“Uh, business is my second major actually. My first choice is art history.” For a second he thought he saw a glimmer of a smile but it was lost when the waiter came to ask if they wanted anything.

Ordering tea, coffee and sandwiches for the both of them Harry could feel himself relax. Manal had this scary appeal about her. She often asked deeply philosophical questions during class that made his question himself. She rarely gave up information about herself though. They had that in common.

“So, Art History…we can work with that. I would want to be able to use this project for a professional portfolio one day. I’m doubling in Anthro and Museum Studies. Business is my minor but I want to be able to show that I can run a museum.” She was doing that thing where she was pretending to give information about herself but she was really just telling him that she’d be calling the shots on this.

“How about we do an educational program? Our target group can be rich kid parents’ who would pay us a ton of money to culture their kids.” She rolled her eyes at him. Their food arrived. Taking a bite from her sandwich she responded with a snide tone.

“Is that what your parents did? Send you to private tutors?” Harry could feel the flare of defense in his stomach.

“No.” He knew she would say something snarky to him. That’s how she treated him. Even when he’d suggested they meet here she’d given a remark about how far into the hills it was. He’d only wanted to bring her to his favorite café, show her a part of him. _He was trying_. His anger rolled off of her, unnoticed.

“Let’s go over the rubric again. I don’t want to pick something that we can’t build up enough for a good grade.” He nodded while sipping his tea. She got that far-off look again. This time the song was a bit more up-tempo. The same band but he could hear a bit of bass and drums now. The lyrics still didn’t make sense.

“What the hell are you listening to?” She chuckled. Harry felt a small flutter in his chest at the sound. Her laugh was airy with a rasp to it as if she didn’t use it often.

“Sleeping at Last. They are in my top three music acts so keep your judgments to yourself.” She looked at her laptop screen almost lovingly.

“Who are the other two?” She gave him a sly smile. Maybe his attempts weren’t in vain.

“Gavin James and Stevie Wonder.” Harry nodded slowly. He knew Stevie Wonder. A part of him wanted to sing “Isn’t She Lovely” to her but deciding against it he continued to eat.

“What about you? Top three?” She was giving him her full attention now. This seemed to be a topic of interest for her. He needed to make it good.

“Uh…Pink Floyd…I actually have the artwork from The Dark Side of the Moon tattoo’d on me. Stevie Nicks, Kings of Leon.” She gave a nod of approval.

“I have tickets to see Stevie next month. Fucking legend.” Harry lost his cool.

“How?! Those tickets were impossible to get. I literally almost sucked dick for a cheap seat. “The laugh that rolled out of her was breathtaking. Harry let it wash over him for a moment.

“Umm, if my friend doesn’t want to go I’ll sale one to you.” It was a one off comment but Harry couldn’t stop his brain from picturing them together in their seats, singing along drunkenly. He wanted to know who she was under the academic shell she wore so tightly all the time.

“How about we take your culture exposure idea and make it accessible? Like, I see people create this amazing art all over the place but they never realize how valuable they are to documenting the culture of _now_.” Harry could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Her voice was hitched a bit with the bubbles of a fresh idea.

“A gallery. But a rotating one. So like, every month we’d feature a different group of raw artists. Your rich people will buy it, thus maintaining the business and creating a form of income for a population that is usually in poverty or damn near it.” She finished with an uncertain tone and a questioning look to Harry. She was actually seeking his validation.

“Yeah, yeah. That sounds brilliant actually. I can see that panning out well. The budget would be simple. Recruiting would be of artists and buyers…” He trailed off, looking at the rubric on the table. They had a plan and Harry hadn’t made an ass of himself.

 

**\--October 14 th**

Sleeping at Last was a weird band but this Gavin James guy had an amazing voice. Harry had spent the better half of his Saturday listening to the albums and live performances of Manal’s favorite acts. He may have also made a list of musicians with similar sounds that he can throw into conversations. He could see why she liked both acts. She tended to be heady and maybe a bit sad at times. He imagined her in her apartment, sitting and reading some book he’s never heard of while drinking black coffee with three sugars (he’d counted at the café) and listening to these songs.

He had “Nervous” on repeat, deciding it would be their song one day if he could just get her to like him.

“What in sappy fuck are you listening to? Sounds like Ed.” Liam was yelling from the kitchen of their shared apartment. The song did sound like something their friend Ed would write. Maybe he could introduce Ed to Manal, but what if she liked him over Harry?

“It’s music. We can’t all be white boys with the swagger of a 90s R&B singer.” Liam did a spin behind the counter, finishing his dishes. What if she liked Liam more than Harry too? Ed made the music she liked and Liam was cool. He needed new friends.

Plopping down next to Harry with a bowl of cereal Liam leaned into him to see the song title.

“This is completely related to a crush isn’t it?” As a reply Harry shoved him away. He needed to get going anyway. He was due to meet Manal at a study location of her choice and he had no idea where he was going. She’d texted him the address the day before. Google said it was a 35minute drive and a ‘place where tradition meets modern’. He couldn’t figure out what tradition or whose version of modern but if it gave him a better idea of who she was he was up for it.

Throwing his materials into his backpack he gave Liam a light kick before running out of the door.

 

\---

The place wasn’t hard to find. Parking around the corner Harry could smell spice and roasted meats in the air. That explained the traditional. Stepping into the entrance way he spotted Manal sitting at a bistro table towards the back of the eating area. It was pretty empty except for Manal, a table of young women wearing hijabs and a guy who was spray painting the back wall. That must be the modern.

Weaving through the tables he watched Manal watch the painter. She seemed extremely interested in the man. He was stepping back from his piece to examine it. His hair was shaven on the sides and electric blue at the top from what Harry could make out. Sharp cheekbones made up his profile.

Manal didn’t stop staring until Harry plopped into the seat next to her.

“Why are you next to me?” Harry looked over at the painter, then back at Manal.

“Didn’t want to obstruct your show.” He could see the rose gold blush rise in her cheeks but decided to ignore it for the sake of his own self-worth.

“I see him all the time, its fine. His name is Zain. I was thinking about using some of his art for our presentation. Give a digital tour of our fake space? It’s up to you since you’re the guy with the camera.” Zain was half looking for a particular paint can, b half looking at them talk about him. Finding a green he shook it while addressing Manal.

“Did you ask me if you could use my art? What are you two doing anyway?” His eyes flickered to Harry for a second. He was pretty and had a northern British accent Harry wasn’t expecting. He’d all but lost his Cheshire drawl since moving to LA four years ago but if she was into it he could bring it back.

He didn’t hear her reply, too preoccupied thinking of ways to show how British he was. Zain had returned to his painting but yelled over his shoulder that his major didn’t have to do final projects.

“What’s your course?” Zain looked over his shoulder at Harry’s voice. Fluttering eyelashes and quirked eyebrow.

“You one of us then? But I’m in Literature. Want to be a secondary school teacher.” A jealous part of Harry moaned. Of course he was artistic, pretty and wanted to save the youth. Trying to be the bigger man Harry nodded and began shifting through the research he’d done for the project.

“I have a tentative budget set up. Did you create the job descriptions?” They spent several hours working on the project. Taking breaks to eat the best Ethiopian food Harry had ever tasted. Zain joined them at some point to let his art dry. He’d met Manal at an Eid celebration their first year at UCLA. He called her ‘Mani’ and took the liberty of drinking from her cup and showing Harry how to eat with his hands.

Despite Harry’s yearning to dislike Zain he couldn’t help but enjoy his company. He allowed Harry to take photos of his art and chatted about being homesick for the UK. Manal sat quietly, listening to Zain and Harry try to explain why cookies were a type of biscuit and Digestives weren’t really a dessert food.

“Harry where are you actually from? I always thought you were a valley kid.” Her face was slightly scrunched and Zain was giving her a knowing look.

“Cheshire. I’m from a farming village actually. One of those places that only has one of everything.” Zain’s brows shot up.

“Your mum let you come here for school? Big jump to make.”

“Were you afraid?” She looked concerned now. Holding her cup away from Zain, nails tapping on it slightly. She did that when she was processing information.

“Yeah. Mum didn’t like it but my dad thought it would be a great opportunity for me. I was a bit afraid but I make friends easy enough. What about you Zain?” Manal made a noise in her throat that sounded a lot like disapproval. Zain nudged her slightly.

“My folks wanted me to stay around Bradford but I needed to get away. They are cool now that they know I have people around me to make sure I eat and go to class.” He made a face at Manal that Harry could only interpret as loving. His stomach did a jerk that made his skin heat up slightly.

“So I think we’ve gotten pretty far. Want to schedule for two week check in?” Manal nodded, pulling her phone out to scroll through her calendar.

**\--November 21 st**

It was outright cold with late November blowing in a breeze from the east. Harry had camped out at the one bookstore with a fireplace for two hours just so he could spread his things across the sofa in front of it to reserve their spot. Manal had texted him that she was near, Zain’s haircut had taken longer than expected. Harry liked Zain but didn’t want to spend another day with him.

His fears were relieved when Manal walked in alone clutching two large hot cups from the café across the street. She’d somehow wrapped her scarf around her neck and part of her bun and shivered a bit when she sat down.

“Sorry, Z decided he needed to get a haircut two days before the Thanksgiving break like the ass that he is. I brought you tea. A splash of soy milk right?” She handed him his cup and started the process of untangling from the scarf. It seemed to also wrap around her arm under her coat.

“How long is that thing? And he just wants to look good. You guys have plans for the break?” She finally shook the last fold from around her body before answering, somewhat out of breathe.

“It’s actually just a long piece of fabric I bought on sale and swore I’d make something out of. His family is coming to visit. They’ve never had Thanksgiving so I’m in charge of finding halal dishes to make but keep the feeling. And the Stevie concert is Saturday. He doesn’t want to go by the way. If you want the ticket. I’ll give it to you for free if you drive.” His brain filed away the facts that she made things with fabric and cooked.

“It’s a date.” It was an attempt at casual that she chose to ignore, pulling out her supplies instead.

The project was nearly done. They’d completed all of the detailed parts and just needed to come up with the spoken and visual sections.

They worked in silence for a while before Manal blurted out.

“You should come. If you don’t have plans already. It sucks to be alone on the holidays.” She wasn’t looking at him but her voice was genuine.

“I would but my roommate and friend, Ed, wouldn’t have anyone to feed them.”

“They can come too. But no pressure. Zain and I have a lot of space and between all of the cooks in the house we’ll have plenty of food.” She was looking him in the eye now. He never noticed how copper they were until now.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll run it by the boys.” A different part of his brain filed away the fact that she lived with Zain.

**\--November 24 th**

It wasn’t until Thanksgiving morning that Harry realized he wasn’t sure what to wear or what to bring to a halal dinner. Manal encouraged him to bring wine and wear jeans that could stretch but he hadn’t heard from her since nine that morning. From what he’d seen on TV thanksgiving dinners took all day to make.

By four-thirty he was fussing with his hair and telling Liam and Ed to cover their tattoos as if they weren’t both already wearing long-sleeved shirts. He threw a two bottles of wine in the car next to Liam in the backseat before pulling up the address Manal had sent him.

They lived in the art district. Of course they did. They building was a warehouse turned into lofts. Graffiti that may have been done by Zain decorated some of the exterior walls.

“Why don’t we live here?” Liam pocked Harry only to be swatted away.

“You two aren’t cool enough to live here. All the art students live in this area.” Ed walked ahead of them into the lobby area, guitar bag on shoulder. Harry had convinced him to bring it just in case they needed live entertainment. Liam told him it was stupid idea but Harry insisted.

The door to their 4th floor loft was decorated with little hand turkeys that seemed to be created by a toddler. Ed knocked only to be greeted by a frantic looking Manal at the second rap.

“Good you’ve all made it.” She was dressed casually with an overly inviting smile and had a bit of flour stuck in her curls but seemed happy to see them. She shook hands with Ed and Liam before giving Harry a quick one armed hug. Some part of him registered it as the first time she’d ever touched him but he knew that would be creepy to remember and pushed the thought away.

Harry could guess why Manal wanted him to come. All of Zain’s family had the same face. It was almost freakish how much they looked alike. All beautiful. Zain greeted them with a little girl in his arms, trying to get her to introduce herself.

“Sorry. Brooklyn isn’t good with new people.” Harry handed the wine bottles he was holding to Manal before addressing Brooklyn.

“That’s alright love. Did you make the decorations?” She gave him a shy smile and nod before burying her face into Zain’s neck.

Ed and Liam had already walked around shaking hands and introducing themselves. A man who must be Zain’s father took his hand for a shake.

“You must be Harry. Yaser, Zain’s dad.” He let go of Harry’s hand, giving Manal a sideways glance the same way Zain did sometimes before shaking hands with Ed.

The kitchen and living room was an open space with cozy wood and fabric furniture. It wasn’t quite what he pictured to either of their styles but a happy marriage of the two.

That’s when it hit him. What if Zain planned to propose and Manal just wanted to have Harry here to take pictures. He had his camera in the car like he always did.

Ed hip checked him out of his thoughts.

“Whatever it is, stop it.” Manal clapped her hands together with an exasperated sigh.

“Alright everyone. The food is ready. Grab what you want.” Zain had put Brooklyn down and stood next to Manal.

“You not doing it right. We have to say things we’re thankful for. I’ll go first. I’m thankful for you Mani. You’ve gotten me through these years. I can’t wait to show you the Bradford life though.” Harry knew he wasn’t breathing but couldn’t bring himself to inhale. Manal’s cheeks turned that rose gold color he loved before she spoke.

“Fine. I’m thankful for you Mr. Malik, you’ve become such a major part of my life. Most importantly my personal driver.” She was met with laughter. Probably some inside family joke. Her eyes landed on Harry, giving him a small nod to speak.

“I..uh. I’m thankful for you too Manal. For inviting us and for making sure I graduate on time.” She chuckled along with everyone else. Harry didn’t listen to everyone else’s declarations of thankfulness. He watched how Brooklyn grabbed both Manal and Zain’s hands. Without looking at each other they lifted her in the air to allow her to use them as a swing. She wasn’t their kid. Clearly Zain’s family had strong genetics but she must spend a lot of time with them.

The table only sat six people so Harry, Ed, Liam and Manal all sat in the living room space, leaving the table to the family with Brooklyn in Zain’s lap.

“Thanks for coming boys. I didn’t want to be the only odd man out with Zain’s family. I love them all but he never gets to see them.” Harry wanted to tell her he never gets to see his family either but he’d just spent the summer in Spain with his mom and sister.

“No, thanks for having us. I couldn’t risk going home to Chicago and get snowed in again. Last year I almost missed finals.” Liam was always so good at conversations. Harry usually was too, just not when he was trying to discreetly look at the pictures on the walls. A picture of Manal, Brooklyn and a woman who looked like an older version of them both was directly in front of him. Liam was telling stories now, he could go on for hours if not interrupted.

Eventually the two groups came together for games. The Maliks were a lovely family who enjoyed good British humor while Manal, Ed and Liam laughed politely. Zain’s mom tutted over Harry and being so far away from home while Zain rolled his eyes behind her back.

Brooklyn eventually warmed up to Harry, sitting next to him during UNO. She yelled out the colors and numbers as the cards were laid on the coffee table. Manal gently correcting her when she got them wrong. By the third round of UNO and Harry complaining that Manal and Zain didn’t have Scrabble she had climbed into Zain’s lap, falling asleep. The perfect image of a niece and her favorite uncle. Harry’s stomach did flips.

 

**\--November 26 th**

Harry had gone through four outfits and three hairstyles before leaving to pick up Manal for the concert. Liam could feel the nervous energy rolling off of Harry but didn’t say anything. He knew Harry had a crush on Manal but couldn’t gage how deeply it ran. He tended to fall in lust often and she seemed to be the focus of his efforts this semester. Maybe tonight he’d get lucky before graduation in a few weeks.

Liam gave him a small salute when he ran out of the door. He decided to clean the apartment and pick up Harry’s room, just in case.

 

 

\---

Manal was dressed in her best winter witchy attire, her wide brimmed hat sat low and covered her eyes. Harry smoothed the sides of his fresh haircut before she got in the car.

“You ready for the best show of your life?” She was buzzing with energy, bouncing in her seat. They had their presentation the next week. They’d both taken all of their finals that Monday to have grades in before graduation.

“Do you have a job lined up yet? I have an interview for an assistant curator spot in a small museum downtown.” Harry had completed applications for positions in Manchester. He figured he could move in with one of his parents until he figured out adult life.

“Yeah, no. I’m going to go back home and wing it.” She rolled her eyes, gazing out of the window at the traffic they were stuck in.

“You sound like Zain. He’s already bought his one-way ticket to Bradford and is hoping he can taking his teaching test and start next school year.” Harry’s face scrunched in confusion.

“So you guys are going to be apart?” Why hadn’t she applied for jobs in Bradford or Zain apply in LA?

“Well yeah. I’m going to go visit the family in summer if I can afford it. He’ll come here during school breaks, or Chicago if he gets his way.” Her voice had a sing song tone that Harry had never heard before.

“Why Chicago?” None of this was coming together correctly in his mind. He was running through all the information he stored about their relationship and being apart didn’t seem like an option for them.

“Don’t tell him but Zain had been gushing over how, this is a direct quote, ‘fit and brilliant’ Liam is. I think that’s how you Brits say you like someone.” Harry’s brain was filling with a strange blanketing smoke. What was she talking about? She cleared her throat and continued.

“So, like, is Liam even gay? Zain tends to decide the sexuality of every man he gets a crush on but I really like Liam and he really _really_ likes Liam. I don’t want my best friend to get hurt. I just don’t want there to be a misunderstanding of relationships here.” Harry barked out a laugh that was loud enough for the person in the car next to them to hear. Manal looked worried. The irony brought tears to his eyes.

“Zain can have Liam. Matter of fact, text him now and tell him. I’ll tell Liam.” He was shaking his head now, leaving the highway at the proper exit.

“Why are you laughing and crying? Do you think it will be a mess?” She had a pout pocking out from under her hat that made Harry’s stomach do flips of joy.

“No, no. It’s just that I thought you and Zain were a couple.” Her scuff was as loud as his laugh.

“Fuck off. Is that why you keep ignoring my attempts to flirt with you? Z said I was just shit at it and too bossy if it was him getting in the way he owes me twenty bucks.” Harry almost hit the car at the light in front of them.

“You’ve been flirting with me? _Really_?” She crossed her arms in a defensive way, refusing to look at him. When she didn’t respond, he turned to look at her. She was still pouting.

“This is our first date, yeah?” He could make out the quirk of a smile.

“Yeah.”


End file.
